To Love and To Cherish
by Keira4
Summary: Hermione, overseeing Harry and Ginny's wedding, meets up with her former fiancee.
1. Default Chapter

To Love and To Cherish  
  
"Harry, you'll be fine," I consoled, with the obligation of a friend. I instinctively brushed off his shoulder and straightened his boutonniere with my gloved hands. White gloves for a wedding.  
  
"Thanks Hermione, you're a Godsend," whispered Harry, taking a deep breath and sticking his hands into his black suit pants' pockets.  
  
"It's my job," I replied, smiling at him. "And be careful what you say in here!" Harry returned my smile with the latter comment, looking slightly less nervous than he had previously. The light filtered through the window, illuminating his appearance. Today, his messy hair was somewhat under control. Harry looked strange in his suit; not inappropriate, but strange. His green tie picked up on his eyes, I was sure that was Ginny's doing. When they had decided on a Muggle wedding, Mrs. Weasley nearly fainted with abhoration, but then Ginny pointed out that only the ceremony was to be held at St. Andrew's, not the reception. She was slightly happier after that, but Mrs. Weasley refused to relinquish any of the planning to anyone other than herself on her only daughter's wedding.  
  
"No it's not," sighed Harry, shaking his head and resting his hands on the wide stone window ledge. "You're too good, Hermione! You look after me like I was your own child! I have to grow up!"  
  
"Oh Harry," I answered softly, walking over to him and hugging him. "You know that's not true. For Heaven's sake, you're more grown up than most of the people I know. All you need, Harry, is to get to the front of the church and get married. Now! Go!" I insisted, pushing him towards the door. He looked back, a reluctant grin forming. "Go." I repeated, motioning with my hands, revealing 4 months of baby hanging off me.  
  
"Where's Aiden?" he asked gently, leaning in the doorway, watching me.  
  
"He's with his grandparents," I responded as though it were a known fact. "I don't think small children need to be dragged around wedding ceremonies."  
  
"You've got one with you," replied Harry, nodding at my abdomen.  
  
"I couldn't leave that one at home! Don't be cheeky Harry," I added as he began to chuckle. "You've got to go get married!" Finally, Harry relented and left to find Ron, his best man.  
  
I smiled at his retreating back, and unconsciously straightened the runner on a small oak table next to the deep window sill. They were so perfect together. Opposites in almost every way, but so much the same. If it wasn't for Ginny, Harry wouldn't have become the Seeker for England's Quidditch Team. It was over a year ago that they approached him with the offer, and he nearly turned it down just to please Ginny. She had made some comment earlier about not wanting to move around after she was married, hoping just to settle down and have children.  
  
As my mind drifted across the blank spaces of time, the church bells rang at quarter to ten. I was jolted from my thoughts, and I ran (as well as I could, being four months pregnant) across the hall to the room Ginny was using as a dressing room.  
  
Rapping quickly on the door, I opened it before a verbal allowance was uttered. I slumped back against the door, surveying the chaos before me. Ginny was standing upon a stool, her dress still having last minute additions zapped on by her mother. Ginny, in turn, was cursing each "improvement" to her originally simply design, causing bows, lace and beading to fly around the room, encasing the two in a sort of tornado of screaming and dressing bits.  
  
"Oh, seriously," I groaned, pulling out my wand and muttering a freezing charm. The whirlwind of bows ceased, as did the arguing, and I stepped carefully over a swag of frozen material as I made my way to Ginny. With a simple flick of my wand, her dress was back to the way it began, but with a few simple accents. I added a complimentary train and a small crown of daisies instead of the gaudy tiara previously placed upon the current of fire that was her hair. Cautiously, I unfroze her, watching her reaction. She was prepared to hex me, but stopped when she realized that the dress had been altered.  
  
"Oh Hermione, it's lovely," she said finally, breathing out with relief as she brushed down the long princess skirt of her strapless dress. I looked at her, my eyes slightly damp, and smiled. It seemed such a short time since I was married; five years, in fact. And in another five months we'd have two children to show for it. Aiden looked so much like his father, it was uncanny.  
  
"I'm glad you like it. But what jewelry are you going to put on?" I asked, taking in her shining figure, radiant hair and rosy, excited glow.  
  
Ginny shook her head slowly, looking down at her hands. "I'm not wearing any. That was one of the main quarrels between me and mum. She wants this to be perfect as I'm her only girl. But she doesn't want what I want."  
  
"Of course I do dear," answered Mrs. Weasley. I turned around, startled, but not surprised. The charm had worn off, and Ginny's mother was wiping her own eyes. "You're so lovely Ginny; I'm sorry for being overbearing," Mrs. Weasley sniffed, holding her hands together and smiling, the corners of her eyes crinkling in happiness and yet brimming with loneliness.  
  
"Oh Mum," whispered Ginny, her voice thick and caught in her throat as she stepped off the stool and embraced her mother. I backed away with the intent of leaving them alone, but I was stopped prematurely.  
  
"Don't go, Hermione," said Ginny softly, pulling away from her mother to face me. She stepped closer, her long, wavy hair falling perfectly around her face, the daisy crown perched upon her head as though it had been there eternally, and held out her arms. I hugged her gladly, my eyes delighted as we parted. "You would have been my maid of honor, you know," she remarked thoughtfully, looking me over, her eyes pausing on my abdomen. "But I knew as soon as you announced your pregnancy that you wouldn't want to be up at the front of the church in that state." Displaying a look of relief, I replied,  
  
"I wondered why you didn't have any bridesmaids. You could have had someone other than me, you know."  
  
Ginny shook her head. "No, we couldn't have. Harry and I both agreed you were the only one." I nodded at her, and retreated once again.  
  
"Really, Ginny, I have to go. You and your mum need to talk for a few minutes. I'll be at the front. I've got to go make sure Harry and Ron are at the front of the church, with the proper flowers."  
  
"Oh! My bouquet!" cried Ginny, jumping up from the chair in which she had seated herself, and racing over to the counter to unwrap a round sphere of riotous colour. She grinned sheepishly at Mrs. Weasley and myself, saying, "I was worried they'd wilt."  
  
I smiled at her and headed towards the main body of the church, leaving them alone to talk. At the end of the aisle, four ushers stood ready to seat people, and as one offered me their arm I politely declined for the moment and inquired about the bridegroom and best man.  
  
"They'll be here in a moment," answered the tallest of them.  
  
"Will one of you please tell the bride that her presence will be required in several minutes," I stated more so than asked. "Tell her Mrs. Malfoy sent word." An usher who had bright blue eyes nodded and hurried off down the corridor to find Ginny.  
  
"Would you like me to walk you to your seat, Mrs. Malfoy?" inquired the tallest, courteously holding his arm out for me. I nodded at him and placed my arm around his as he led me up the aisle to the music hanging in the air. Draco and I were to be seated at the very front, on the left hand side, with the groom's guests. When we had traversed the length of the carpet, my escort bowed politely and I sat next to my husband.  
  
"Why hello there," murmured Draco, sliding an arm around my waist as I sat next to him. "I haven't seen you all day. Where'd you send Aiden off to?" I looked over at him, his intense grey-blue eyes focused entirely on me.  
  
"I didn't send Aiden off anywhere," I retorted, matching his focus in a staring contest. "He's with his grandparents. I'm going to pick him up when they go for pictures. Then we're going to the reception. I don't think that small children need to be at wedding ceremonies. Especially when they're as rambunctious as he is."  
  
"You know, he really isn't small anymore," answered Draco, adjusting the jacket of his dark grey suit while loosening the black tie.  
  
I changed the subject. "You look very smart today."  
  
"Don't I always?"  
  
"You know what I mean. That blue shirt looks excellent on you."  
  
"As if you don't look the same?"  
  
"Not exactly. I'm four months pregnant, Draco, and if this child is anything as big as Aiden was, I'm going to be the size of a house come August."  
  
"That will be in August, and we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, you're hardly showing. And you do look spectacular today." I grinned in spite of myself, unconsciously smoothing the skirt of my '50's style dress. It was dark blue, with pale red polka dots on portions of the skirt and bits of the sleeves and body. I had searched forever and finally located the perfect pair of matching red sandals and an understated white clutch. And Ginny had insisted that I style my hair accordingly, and so it was curled and falling gracefully down my back with a wide-brimmed white sun hat, tied under the left side of my chin.  
  
"Thank you," I answered softly, squeezing his hand. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smile at me; my heartbeat quickened and my mouth went dry. It wasn't fair! He'd been able to make me nervous and excited and giddy every time he looked at me since our first date. Just then, a chord was struck on the piano at the front of the church, and everyone rose accordingly, Draco assisting me up.  
  
"I can still get up, you know," I hissed at him from my glued smile.  
  
"Just in case," he replied through his look of aristocratic grace, adjusting his tie once again and lacing one of his hands through mine. I could see Ginny and Mr. Weasley at the back of the church; she looked absolutely petrified. Not of Harry, I knew, but of announcing everything to this tremendous congregation. Seeing as it was Harry Potter's wedding, delegates from every wizarding country had sent representatives with the most elaborate gifts possible. There was a huge throng of fellow ex- students of Hogwarts, by invitation only, and all of them had brought spouses and children. I shook my head as several crying children were rushed to the back of the church, down the side aisles, in order to avoid mournful stares by the minister.  
  
To top it off, all of Harry's entire Quidditch team had been invited, adding a huge initiative to all pesky photographers and reporters for magical tabloids. Out of mutual respect (what most assumed was a truce), Harry and Ginny had invited a Daily Prophet reporter and photographer. It would be best, they decided, if they chose one media outlet. After all, Harry had a history of bad relations with the Daily Prophet.  
  



	2. Chapter 1

As Ginny took her first step down the aisle, a large BANG! bounced across the domed ceiling, and a large cloud of purple smoke issued from a camera hidden underneath a pew. A choir of screams and gasps arose as a small man, dressed in wizard robes, burst out from beneath a bench. Alarm shot through me and I made an attempt to leave my seat, but Draco brushed past me and was at the scene of the offense before I could even reach the aisle. Instead, I held grasped onto Harry as he strode past, attempting to hold him back. He spun on his heel and confronted me.  
  
"Hermione, what is going on? I thought there was only supposed to be one photographer!" he shouted with blatant anger, his eyes consumed by a fire of rage.  
  
"There is only one photographer," I answered softly, tightening my grip on his arm.  
  
"Then what the bloody hell is that!" Harry cried out, flinging his hands out and then covering his face in anguish.  
  
"I don't know," I replied calmly. "Draco's down there, he'll handle everything. And no, it is alright. It's your wedding and he was supposed to be on security detail. I mean, there are seven aurors down there. The usher guise was good, Harry."  
  
It was as though he hadn't heard a word I'd just said. "What if Ginny's hurt! What if she's blinded, or, or, or-" I stopped him, placing my hand on his mouth.  
  
"Harry, it's just a loose photographer. Like I said before, Draco's down there, your future wife is an auror-in-training, so don't fret." Although I was certain my words were entirely correct, Harry merely tossed me a weak smile and resumed scuffing his shoes on the carpet. "It's your wedding day, for God's sake! At least look happy!" I exclaimed, rapping the back of my hand on his arm. Harry's eyes found mine, and I simply smiled. Reassuringly.  
  
"Do you know how long it took before you eradicated all of the spastic photographers and reporters from my wedding?" I returned complacently, trying to choose a safe subject. I was rewarded with a boyish smile and the retreat of his anger.  
  
"Yeah, that took a while. Great fun though," he added, looking down the aisle, scanning the crowd for his bride. Without speaking, I guided Harry's arm to face him towards the front of the church. Wordlessly, he walked up and took his place, looking slightly nervous and still scared as hell. But, wasn't I as well? Did I not almost have second thoughts about going up the aisle on my wedding day? Just as I returned to my seat, Draco slipped in, panic smoothed over, looking as suave and cool as when he had left.  
  
"And before you ask," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he slid his arm around my waist, "it was just a careful photographer. Snuck pask Dylan's team, Lord only knows how."  
"Is he the one with the blue eyes?"  
  
"How am I supposed to know? Kept squealing something about being from "Evening Report", some kind of sleazy tabloid. Frank threw him out on his rear end, and the reporter with him."  
  
"Well, is he blonde? And what reporter?"  
  
"Jesus, Hermione, I don't pay that much attention," Draco answered, a frown creasing his forehead. "She was hiding in the curtains beside the sacristy. Caught her by accident."  
  
I smirked. "You're cute when you're angry."  
  
"Good for me."  
  
"Very good for you," I whispered, kissing him gently. He moved into kiss me deeper, but I pulled away and sat properly in the bench, mirth tugging at the corners of my otherwise solemn mouth.  
  
"Damn you 'Mione. You tease me all the time," he growled playfully into my ear.  
  
"Draco, really!" I shrieked, albeit very quietly. "This isn't our wedding! We don't want to spoil it for the bride and groom-" But before Draco and I could resume our antics, a small, yet hard, fast moving object rammed straight into my lap.  
  
"What the-" began Draco, but just then Aiden shove his pale blonde head into my shoulder and wrapped his arms around my neck.  
  
"Aiden, sweetheart, what are you doing here?" I asked, while mentally contemplating all the situations that could have brought him here. Moments later, a breathless Ron arrived, his jacket unbuttoned, hair unruly, and generally in a state of complete disarray.  
  
"There he is, the little snitch," breathed Ron heavily as he leant over the pew.  
  
"Will you please stop calling my child quidditch terms!" I snapped harmlessly, enclosing my arms around Aiden, smiling even as I said it.  
  
"Cnsider it done," said Ron absently, sitting down and buttoning his jacket back up. I reached over and tucked his hair back into place.  
  
"Well, why is he here?" Draco asked Ron, his arm now on the back of the pew.  
  
"Your Mum dropped him off, 'Mione. Said something about needing to complete the family for pictures. Actually, I think she's buying baby gifts."  
"That would be my mother," I sighed, slipping Aiden's arms off my neck and then addressing him. "Why'd your grandma drop you off at the church?"  
  
He shrugged. "She said I needed to remember Uncle Harry's wudding. Because he's your and Daddy's fiend."  
  
"Because he's what?" I replied, not quite deciphering what my 3 ½ year old had just said. Ron stifled a laugh and even Draco had pure amusement written across his face.  
  
"Fiend. I think."  
  
"You know, for a 2 year old, he's pretty good," remarked Ron. I rolled my eyes.  
  
"He's 3 ½. He'll be 4 in October."  
  
"Oh. Right."  
  
"Friend, don't you mean?" interjected Draco.  
  
"Mmhm!" exclaimed Aiden, nodding fiercely and sliding off my lap to perch beside his father on the bench.  
  
"Got to go," muttered Ron. "Harry looks as though he just saw his pet canary shred his socks." I didn't get time to ask whether the socks would have been the canary's or Harry's.  
  
A giggle escaped in spite of the atmosphere and Ron cast a sidelong glance at me and then left, shaking his head. His eyebrows raised, Draco looked over at me and gestured to our son, who was playing with the hymn books in between us. I just shrugged. Mum had seen fit to drop him off, and I knew enough by now that her decisions were usually, if not always, correct.  
  
Just then the piano struck a chord once again, and everyone stood up, turning to watch the bridal party. I chanced a glance at Harry, who wasn't quite as green as the last time, and then resumed my position.  
  
When Ginny, accompanied by Mr. Weasley, walked past us, I could see the excitement and apprehension reflected in her face. She had a death grip on both her father's arm and her bouquet as the music carried them down the aisle, toward Harry and her future. Following them came Ron and Luna, looking quite the pair with her pale grey dress and brilliant raspberry flowers bringing out the flush in her cheeks.  
  
"Mum," Aiden said rather loudly, tugging on my dress.  
  
"Yes?" I answered, whispering and motioning for him to be quieter.  
  
"Hold me up," came back his hoarse, childish whisper, much louder than necessary. I grinned at him and he smiled back the same, his baby teeth now all in. But before I could even pick him up, Draco swept Aiden onto his shoulders, giving him the best view in the entire church. He giggled with glee at being on his father's shoulders, a treat I rarely allowed, and looked down at me, slightly nervous. I placed his worries aside, however, when I returned his gaze with a nod and smile. Draco cast a glance at me, concern dusting his features, making him look much older than 25.  
  
Without speaking I conveyed the question, raising my eyebrows towards our son. Draco gestured his head in the direction of my stomach, to our second child, and I smiled with gratitude holding his left arm with both hands and leaning on his shoulder. 


	3. 3

By the time the minister had uttered the words "You may now kiss the bride", Aiden was asleep on Draco's shoulder and I was still leaning on him, quite content in my position. And then, with a roar of clapping and cheers, Harry and Ginny kissed; the final seal of their vows. Aiden awoke with a start and was slightly cranky until he started clapping. We exited the church as a family, pausing to have our picture taken several times with various different people. After all, we were the Malfoy family now: prestigious, pretentious, and publicly unreachable. If the wedding had been open to other photographers, they would have had a field day.  
  
"Harry!" I cried, fighting my way through the crowd of former Gryffindors to his side, Draco and Aiden following closely, giving both he and Ginny huge hugs. "Congratulations! You know I'm terribly happy, but I'm going to say it again. I'm so happy for you!" Ginny smiled broadly and bent down to talk to Aiden.  
  
"Hermione," said Draco from behind me, holding tight to my hand.  
  
"Yes love?" I answered, facing him and planting a kiss on his lips.  
  
"I'm going over to see Blaise," he said quietly, as though he didn't want anyone else to hear. My eyes clouded for a moment and I held a false smile to my face, but it quickly turned genuine.  
  
"Go ahead. I'll be over in a minute," I replied, grasping Aiden's hand as he tugged once again at my dress. Draco's face showed open surprise at the latter comment, but I quickly set him straight. "Just because we once on bad terms doesn't mean we still are. I haven't talked to him for over a year, and I would like one of your friends to be this baby's godfather," I continued, placing a hand on my abdomen.  
  
"You, you mean-" stuttered Draco unsurely. It was strange to surprise him this much.  
  
"Yes. I do mean. Now, I'll be over as soon as I say hello to everyone. We'll discuss it with him then."  
  
"Her, Hermione, are you serious about this? I know you're not too keen on Blaise, but he showed his loyalties. He saved your life."  
  
"You don't think I'm perfectly well aware of that? I know just what he did for me. It's time I actually spoke to him. I thanked him after the war, after Voldemort, and left it. We have a history, Draco, and I'm not prepared to let that stop a friendly future."  
  
Without speaking, Draco gave a weak smile and turned on his heel to talk to his old friend and my former fiancée. I watched him disappear through the scattered crowds of people, heading straight for Blaise and ignoring the social protocol of necessary pleasantries. Blaise's face lit up as Draco approached, and after a brother-like hug they fell complacently into conversation.  
  
"Hello Hermione! My, two already? And to think it's only been five years!"  
  
I turned, half-smiling because I knew it was Parvati. "Yes, it'll be two in August. This is our son, Aiden," I said pleasantly, gesturing to Aiden, who was currently staring in amazement at her false eyelashes, charmed to curl back towards her ears in outrageous spirals. "Draco's just left; I can find him if you like."  
  
"Oh, no! I want to talk to you! So, what is going on with you at the moment? I've met the greatest bloke..."  
  
20 minutes later, (after prying myself away from a terribly fascinating conversation with Parvati), I collected Aiden off of Ron's shoulders and moved over to Dean, Seamus and Neville, conversing on what I surmised to be England's chances at the Quidditch World Cup, occurring just after our second child's due date.  
  
"Hello Neville," I said, smiling, hugging him and then repeating the salut to the other two.  
  
"Of course England's going to win, Seamus," I continued, hoisting Aiden onto my left hip. "they've got Harry. That speaks for itself. And Dean, Manchester U's going all the way. I can't believe you cheer for West Ham!" At the latter comment, Neville and Seamus looked quite blank, but Dean's laughter woke them up.  
  
"Manchester hasn't got a chance," scoffed Dean, running one foot across the grass.  
  
"Nice to see you too," I answered, changing stance to hold Aiden properly. Dean smiled and hugged me, followed by Seamus. You'd be amazed how close you get when you're made to share a flat for three years.  
  
During our stay at Burnaby's University Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, Neville and I had all shared a living quarters. After having spent seven years together at Hogwarts, they were quite used to each other. However, it was a definitive learning curve for me. We shared the rent and rotated cleaning and cooking chores, but that was only the beginning. Everyday Harry had Quidditch practice, Dean ran across the bridge to the Muggle side of Manchester for football, Seamus entertained us with various attempts at culinary refinement, Neville tried not to become overly frightened of his new Potions teacher, and Ron cleaned brooms for the Chudley Cannons, who were then on a winning streak and could afford to hire extra help.  
  
It was an experience to remember, that's for sure. They were like six older brothers. Six, protective, older brothers. The first night I brought Draco over, they nearly had simultaneous heart attacks. That was before the war, yet after Blaise. We were so young, so very naïve, so very....unready. Thank God the wedding was called off.  
  
"So, what's new with you, Hermione?" asked Dean politely, changing the subject from sports to basics.  
  
I shrugged, and answered with a half-smile. "Nothing, really. Aiden will be four in October, and our new baby is due in August. Just trying to set up the house for the new arrival, basically."  
  
"Ah," scoffed Seamus, "as though you need to organize! You can hire people to do that!"  
  
That's what they think! I'm not going to allow someone else to order my life! "No, Draco and I wanted to do part of it ourselves," I answered quickly, worry dulling my eyes. "The only nannies I'm allowing are family and friends. And there's only going to be someone to look after the-"  
  
"Hermione, he was just joking. I know you don't like throwing money around. And don't fret about Seamus, he's generally outspoken as it is," covered Neville, trying to ease my panic. I smiled warmly at him, and said my farewells until later that evening, and started toward Draco and Blaise.  
  
"You're looking quite the domestic," commented Blaise upon my appearance next to Draco. Draco threaded his fingers through mine with one hand, the other casually set in his pocket. At Blaise's comment, a slight pressure was applied; I ignored it.  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment," I answered with a practiced grace.  
  
"I do what I can," replied Blaise, smiling with a half-bow, as though he was greeting the queen.  
  
Aiden hung back, shying away from Blaise by hiding behind my skirt, poking his head out every now and again. He'd never been comfortable with Draco's best friend. I couldn't even imagine not having Aiden anymore. Being married to Blaise and talking to Draco with a strange countenance at Harry's wedding instead. I shook the thoughts out of my head and resumed the conversation.  
  
"Draco and I would like to have you to dinner next weekend," I said with greatest diplomacy, extending an olive branch. "Will you be able to come?"  
  
"What day?"  
  
"Next Thursday. At 6:00, if you don't mind, we'd like you to spend some more time with Aiden."  
  
"Why the polite bull shit, Hermione? We both know you're uncomfortable as hell around me," answered Blaise, pulling at his collar, unfazed by his comments.  
  
I stared at him, my mouth half-open, and pushed Aiden over to Draco. "Take him to the car, Draco," I finally managed. "I'm going to confirm our plans with Blaise." Draco didn't even raise concern, he simply swung Aiden up on his shoulder and stalked off, tickling his son, who giggled with glee.  
  
Turning back to Blaise, I glared at him with ferocity. "My son was there! Did you really feel the need to expose him to shit like that? It was a pointless power exertion, and you know it," I ended, eyes flaming, yet to anyone looking upon our conversation, it would have appeared we were getting along quite amicably. "I know we're not exactly best of friends, but you could have made an effort to be nice to the child!"  
  
With one eyebrow raised in suspicion, Blaise gazed at me, both of his hands in his pockets, showing no intention of replying.  
  
I sighed, letting my arms fall to the side. "Look, all I'm trying to do is to declare a peace. Let's stop fighting and try to move away from the past. I wanted you to be this baby's Godfather," I finished, placing a hand on my stomach. "Draco would be devastated if you didn't."  
  
Shock, followed by an intense swirl of emotions flashed across Blaise's face. "That- that's what you wanted me to come over for?"  
  
Looking at the ground, I nodded rather than speak again.  
  
"So, you weren't trying to parade your life in front of me, to make me jealous?" asked Blaise, hope hewn into his voice.  
  
I flipped my head up and stared at him for a minute. "You know I would never do a thing like that again," I answered softly, still making eye contact."  
  
"I, I guess."  
  
"No, Blaise," I replied hurriedly. "You have to understand that this was only with the best of intentions. I want you to be part of our extended family. Draco does too, he's just never said anything of that sort straight to my face. Please be this baby's Godfather," I pleaded, taking a step forward.  
  
He didn't move for a moment. He just stared at the ground, lost in thought. When he did look up, it was at my stomach, and then over towards the parking lot, where Aiden and Draco were safely stowed away in our car.  
  
"Sounds like a plan to me," Blaise answered, tilting his head up and smiling at me. I returned the smile and moved to hug him but stopped myself. Instead, I lay a hand upon his shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.  
  
"Thank you. It means a lot."  
  
And then we parted. I left to find my husband and my son, and Blaise left to find a ride to the reception. 


End file.
